


Oh! You Pretty Things

by shenhai



Category: Sky High (2005)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 04:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4904932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shenhai/pseuds/shenhai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title inspired by David Bowie's song of the same name in his album Hunky Dory.</p><p>Sky High isn't mine, nor are any of the characters that appear in the movie.  OCs are mine.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by David Bowie's song of the same name in his album Hunky Dory.
> 
> Sky High isn't mine, nor are any of the characters that appear in the movie. OCs are mine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bethany Bright (aka Freeze Girl) is a greenie freshman on her first day at Sky High. What will the future bring? Beth isn't sure, but she's doing everything she can to make it swing in her favor.

Fast. Everything was moving so fast. She’d taken her time in the morning, picking out her outfit (a light pink skirt with a cream top, matching pink peep-toe heels trimmed in cream, and white gold accessories) and having a nice breakfast, but as soon as she got on that bus, things started to move so quickly they were almost a blur in her memory. Thankfully, she’d always had a propensity for speed. A few more stops, no more than five minutes in total, and they were on their way to Sky High, the overeager bus driver speeding down a deserted highway. She had to admit it, she screamed when they flew off the edge of the concrete. In that split second of weightlessness, it felt like everything in the whole world was standing still, just waiting for her to crash to her death. But lo and behold, the driver revved the engine and the bus morphed into a makeshift jet, rocketing her and her classmates to the relative safety of what was basically a floating island. 

It was the first time she had ever even seen Sky High, but despite the fact that it was “kept aloft by the latest in antigravitational technology,” according to her bus driver, she was kind of underwhelmed. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but a normal-looking, brick, trees, and grass high school was not it. She filed off the bus with the others, hardly even processing the fact that not ten minutes before, she had been screaming for her very life. She filed the thought under “accept without question” and moved on. Up the steps, through the winding halls, and into the impressively large gym she went, following the crowd of other freshmen all shuffling around her. She knew what was coming, but wasn’t worried. As the child of two superheroes, hers was a guaranteed hero power. She weaved her way towards the front of the group, hoping she’d be picked sooner rather than later so that she could sit back and watch the show. 

The principal of the school whizzed into the gym in a blinding ball of light, gave a short speech, and whizzed out again while from the center of the gym a small round pedestal rose up out of the ground. The gym teacher, Coach Boomer, was standing on it with a clipboard and a pair of uncomfortably short shorts. After a quick explanation of power placement (had it really been almost an hour since she’d gotten on that bus this morning?), a set of steps extended out of the side of the platform, and Coach Boomer got down to business. 

“Stripy kid, you’re up!” he yelled, and a tall, lanky boy with shaggy brown hair slunk forward and trudged up the steps. His name was Lash, and he stretched all the way to the ceiling, eliciting gasps from some of her less educated classmates. “Hero!” shouted Boomer, and Lash trudged back down the steps, high-fiving a pudgy guy in a backwards baseball cap. He called himself ‘Speed,’ and had the power to match it. 

Boomer tore through the classlist mercilessly, shunting a girl who created bubbles in any shape but round to sidekick class along with a guy who could change the color of his shoes, a short guy who could grow extra fingers on demand, and a girl who could make a sound like a cricket if she rubbed her knees together. The cheerleader who could create copies of herself went into hero class with Speed and Lash, as did a pair of fliers (there was at least one in every class) and a girl who could camouflage her skin and clothes to match any background seamlessly. Then it happened. 

“Preppy chick, your turn!” shouted Boomer, staring directly at her. She took a deep breath, and walked up the steps. “What’s your name, missy?” he asked, trying to be as demeaning as legally possible. He didn’t intimidate her in the slightest. 

“Bethany Bright,” she said. Boomer sniggered. 

“What’s your shtick, blind optimism? Power up!” he commanded before she could retort. So she did. 

Quick as lightning, the pillar to her right was completely coated in thick blue ice. A split second later, she heard the satisfying crack as it fractured from the stress. She drew the ice back, and the pillar crumbled. Boomer jotted down a note on his clipboard and said “Hero,” in a mildly impressed tone. Not quite the reaction she had hoped for, but she’d take it. She noted with satisfaction that several of her classmates, including Lash, were looking at her with expressions of amazed respect. She smiled. Perfect. 

It was a lesson she’d learned long ago: dress like an angel, fight like a hellcat. She was all sweetness and sugar on the outside, and most of the way inside, too. She had never harbored a rebellious spirit, nor felt any particular desire to be a tomboy. She was girly and proud, and if she overplayed it a little bit, it was because she’d rather not go through high school with radioactive spitballs stuck in her hair. Better to be popular and have to seem less smart than she was than to go through life as the butt of every popsicle joke that any immature teenage boy could come up with. But if she needed to show a little bit of badassery in order to get respect, she certainly wasn’t going to pull her punches. 

The bell rang for lunch as she stepped onto the gym floor, and Boomer singled out his next victim before dismissing them into the cafeteria. Bethany spent lunch with Speed, Lash, Penny (the cheerleader), the camouflage girl (Trina), one of the fliers (a sweet if slightly dense girl named Lauren), and a junior named Gwen, who had invited them all to sit with her so she could help them get more familiar with the school. It was noon already, and Beth still couldn’t believe things were going so fast, but lunch was fun, and as soon as Gwen beckoned her over, she knew she’d be set for friends and popularity. That was one more thing she didn’t have to worry about. So far, it seemed like high school would be easier than she thought. 

The bell rang almost before she’d finished her lunch, and off she went, back to the gym with the others to witness the remaining students run Boomer’s gauntlet. About halfway through this round, Boomer looked out at the crowd and hesitated for a split second before flipping the page on his clipboard and calling out, “Tough guy, let’s go.” A tall boy in ripped jeans and a black leather jacket stepped forward. He had a red stripe in his long, black hair, a scowl on his face, and as soon as he started to move, whispers ran around him like hissing steam. The rumors reached her ears in mere seconds: “That’s Warren Peace, Barron Battle’s son." "You remember, six years ago?" "I heard he got held back in school for burning a teacher’s hand off." "I can’t believe they let him in here." "How can his mother afford to pay the tuition?" "Some people say his mom’s not actually a superhero, that she went darkside and was helping Barron Battle all along." "He’s probably in on it too, raised to be a vi-” The whispers ceased abruptly when Boomer spoke again. 

"Well, kid, power up," he said, and Beth thought it sounded like Boomer just wanted to get this one over with. Warren Peace took his left hand out of his pocket and held it up nonchalantly as it blazed, consumed in fire. "Hero," Boomer pronounced softly (for him), but as soon as the word left his mouth someone scoffed and replied "yeah right" under their breath. It was quiet enough that no one knew who said it, not even whether it was a boy or a girl, and certainly no one was owning up to the snide remark. Boomer seemed content to let it pass, probably not wanting to start a scene, but the rest of the gym was staring at Warren, whose hand had clenched into a fist and was sending flames leaping two to three feet into the air. 

"Cool it, hothead," boomed Coach when he noticed, and after another few seconds, the flames went out, and Warren stomped down the stairs menacingly, cutting a large swath through the students as he stalked to the back of the group. The rest of power placement was comparatively quiet, and they finally sorted the last student with a whole hour to spare in the school day. The students who had sustained minor injuries were sent off to the Nurse's office, and the rest of the class was given a tour of the school so that they'd all know where to find their classes the next day. Bethany hung out with Penny and Lauren, and Warren stayed in the back, ignoring and ignored by everyone. Before she knew it, the other grades were streaming out of their classrooms, and she was swept up onto the bus and taken back to solid earth. The bus pulled up to her corner and she hopped off. Her parents weren't home from heroing yet, so she unlocked the door, went upstairs to her room, and deposited herself on her bed, processing the day's events. 

She was a hero. That was good. If she'd somehow been forced into sidekick class, she'd never hear the end of parental disappointment. But thankfully the world hadn't shifted overnight, and elemental powers were still considered some of the strongest abilities a super could have. Check one. She had also managed to find friends (or at least some potentials) within the hero class, one of whom was a flier. Fliers were always popular. And Penny was a cheerleader, sure to be popular, especially in hero class. She'd have no trouble as long as she kept both of them on her side. Not to mention the fact that Gwen Grayson, a hero class junior and obviously a popular one, had personally asked her, a freshman, to hang out at lunch. That was like getting an Oscar in high school terms. After consideration, Beth didn't think she'd have any problems remaining on the positive side of the popular line. Check two. 

Now, she didn't want to get ahead of herself, but Lash had chosen the seat next to her at lunch, and he'd made an effort to talk to her during the tour, too. Potential for romantic pursuits? It was possible. She put down a hesitant mental check three for that one. And Gwen had said that the classes really weren't all that hard if your parents had ever taught you anything about heroing, so she went ahead and put down a big fat check four for academic security. Beth had always been top of her class, so she hadn't been really worried about it, but it was nice to know she wouldn't have to stress, all the same. She was pretty sure that Boomer had liked her, or at least not hated her, so she could tentatively say that she was one for one in getting the teachers to like her. Check five? 

There was the problem of Warren Peace. Him being in her class was sure to make her dad go ballistic... but maybe she didn't have to mention that fact to him. If he didn't already know, then there was no point in getting him worked up over nothing. It was obvious that they were going to travel in different circles, anyway, so she really didn't see the need to worry him. That settled it. Warren Peace was solidly not going to be in her summary of her first day of high school. Honestly, with how antisocial he was, she'd probably never even notice him again...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth settles into her classes, and discovers a worthy opponent.

The next day, she got her schedule of classes. 8 AM: Superhero Ethics, 9 AM: History of Superheroes, 10 AM: Practical Mathematics for Superheroes. Then it was lunch for an hour, and she started up again at noon with Superhero English. Next she had P.E., which the whole school attended and was technically called "Intro to Unarmed Combat", and she ended the day with Mad Science. Not counting PE, Lash was in two of her classes (History and Ethics), Penny was in Ethics and English with her, Trina was in Ethics and Mad Science, and Lauren was in three of her classes: everything but Math and History. Things seemed to be working out rather well, she thought.

Ethics was boring, just like she had expected it to be. She sat with her friends and got through it, looking forward to History, which actually sounded interesting. She and Lash went in together, and to her great delight (and surprise), the teacher was engaging and fun. Math was math; it had always come easily to her, and at lunch she sat with Gwen and her friends again. Gwen introduced them to some of her other friends, from the junior and sophomore classes. English was a breeze, no surprise there. Mad Science was interesting, and she thought that she'd probably have to work the hardest at that class. There was just so much to cover. All in all, though, her academic classes wouldn't give her any trouble. There was one class she was worried about, however: P.E.

Beth was fit as a fiddle, and unarmed combat was nothing new to her. She'd started martial arts when she was eight years old, and had taken to it right away. Only problem was, she was way ahead of the majority of her classmates, which meant that she was put into an advanced group to be instructed twice a week by the principal herself. This in itself wasn't a problem. The fact that Warren Peace was also put into the advanced group was. Worse, she could tell from watching the other students' evaluations that if anyone in her class was close to her skill level, it was Warren. Which meant, more than likely, they'd be sparring together. Her dad could NOT find out.

Beth didn't have anything in particular against Warren. I mean, sure his dad was probably the most notorious supervillain of the past decade, but that didn't mean that Warren was evil by extension. Sins of the father and all that. Unfortunately, her dad was not of the same mindset. If he found out that Beth would be required not only to see, but to interact with the son of Barron Battle, there would be no telling what he might do. He was one of those super-overprotective dads, the ones with the shotguns. In fact, probably the only reason he didn't own a shotgun was that disintegration rays did more damage. He did have a few of those.

So there was something else she couldn't talk about at home. She doubted that her parents would notice, though. They didn't exactly talk much. She did decide, however, that it was probably safe to talk to her brother about it. Christopher was five years older than she was, but he still managed to be very cool about most things. He was protective of her too, but not in the crazy overbearing helicopter parent way that her dad was. All right, so they skyped each other at least twice a week, but Chris was her best friend. Which was a little pathetic, she guessed, but with any luck high school would change that.

Over the next couple of weeks, Beth settled into her routine, learning how to navigate the halls and the social maze of Sky High. She kept Chris up to speed, kept her parents mostly in the dark, and found that even with homework, friends, classes, teachers, and extracurriculars, she was still managing to juggle everything very neatly. Everything was going as well as it possibly could, if she were being realistic, and she was quite content with her life. In the third week of classes, though, something happened that put a tiny pebble into her shoe, just enough to make her step a little less sure.

They were in the main gym with the rest of the school, as Principal Powers was busy that day. Coach Boomer, then, was in charge of the class, and in his typical belligerent fashion, he decided that P.E. that day would consist of a sparring competition. The classes were separated, the students were paired off, and soon the fights began. Everyone got a chance to fight twice in the first round, and if you won at least once, you advanced to the next round. It was single elimination after that, for the sake of time, and the period went by amazingly fast. Before she knew it, she was standing five feet away from Warren Peace, ready to face off against him for the first time ever, in a full-fledged sparring competition.

She'd been keeping tabs on her most likely challengers, and she knew she was in for a fight. Despite her generally pleasant demeanor, Beth had a competitive streak a mile wide when she felt that someone could threaten her position as the best. As such, there was no way she was going to lose to Warren Peace today. Not after she'd fought all this way. She revved up the analytical portion of her brain and started to evaluate his strengths and weaknesses lightning quick. His expression was unreadable, as always, and she suddenly felt an irrational but vehement dislike of him. Didn't he even have emotions? The "too cool for school" thing was so last decade. She grimaced, using the unwarranted anger to fuel her rapidly tiring body.

Coach faced off the last two students in each class, announcing the final round like he was the MC at a WWE fight. He boomed the go-ahead, and the round started. Unbidden, a huge grin suddenly erupted on her face, just like it always did when she was fighting. She'd never been able to say exactly why this happened; she just felt a sort of insuppressible glee whenever she started a fight. It caused her to get some weird looks, but it threw her opponents off so much that she'd never had any desire to change the habit: it had won her many a match. Warren, however, was a different story.

After the whistle blew and the first tentative strikes were made, her manic grin faltered in surprise when she observed an identical grin (perhaps a little more vicious, but that could have been her own perception) break out on Warren's face. It startled her so much that he got a strike in on her: first blood. That shook her out of her reverie and awakened her competitive anger again. First blood should have been her achievement. The grin spread over her face once more, and she got down to business.

It was the hardest fight she'd ever been in. He was good, experienced, and incredibly innovative. He used techniques from a bunch of different arts, mixed them, mashed them together into crazy hybrids, and she was sure he had even invented a few of the moves he made. He was without doubt a formidable opponent, but he had one weakness: he was slow. Her grin intensified. Too bad for him, she was fast as lightning. The match went on for almost the full three minutes, but in the end, she managed to twist away from one of his solid sidekicks and ram her own foot into his stomach in a perfectly executed spinning round house kick. Three points and a win. The match was hers.

She set her foot down and faced her defeated opponent, her fighting grin replaced by one just as big that beamed satisfaction and pride over a hard-fought victory. Warren turned towards her as well, and she noted with surprise that he was also still smiling.

"Nice moves, Freeze Girl," he said, and the irrational distaste she had felt for him before vanished completely.

"You too," she said sincerely, equipped with a newfound respect for the black sheep of her class. It was a little too early to say that she felt friendly towards him, but she no longer felt any need to be wary of his presence, and that counted as a positive emotion, right? Boomer told them to hit the showers, so they filed off to their respective locker rooms with the rest of the school. After a very quick rinse, Beth dried off and strutted out of the locker room, still proud of her win. Warren came out of the boys' locker room at almost exactly the same time, and when he saw her, he went over to her.

"You fought pretty well in there," he said. "I look forward to a rematch."

Beth smiled. "Me too. And this time I won't go easy on you," she joked.

He flashed a quick smile. "Thanks," he said sardonically, and turned to go. "See ya," he threw over his shoulder, and walked off towards the English classroom. Beth watched him for a second, surprised at the interaction. He was not at all what she had expected. A moment later, she caught herself staring after him and shook herself out of it, turning in the opposite direction and hurrying off towards the Mad Science lab.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romance is in the air, but not everyone is happy about it...

By the start of September, her fourth week at Sky High, she had developed a sort of non-friendship with Warren. They never spoke, really, except in P.E. class, and then only sporadically, but each of them had a particular respect for the other's skill as a fighter, and that respect extended beyond the small practice room they occupied twice a week in the sixth hour of the school day. He was in two of her classes, Ethics and History, but he always sat in the back of the class, in one of the corners if he could manage it, and she was always front and center. 

She didn't dare spurn Gwen and her other friends to sit with him at lunch, either, even though she sometimes noticed that he went the entire period without eating. She didn't quite know what to do with that information, so she just let it be, festering a little bit in the back of her mind. Most days she didn't even think about it; it was only when she noticed him not eating again that she remembered. One such day, right at the beginning of September, she was sitting with Gwen, Lash, Penny, and the others. Lunch was about halfway through, and everyone was already finished eating, just sitting around and talking. 

Lash got up, saying that he was going to go get a soda, and he asked Beth to go with him, bribing her with the promise that he'd get her something at the snack bar. By this point in the school year, Beth was harboring a secret crush on her elastic friend, fueled by the special attention he gave her. Chris knew about it, of course, but her parents were in the dark. No need to send dad out with a hatchet before she even knew if he liked her back. 

She got up to go with Lash and followed him over towards the snack counter, but then he swerved to the side, leading them into the empty hallway where the bathrooms were. 

"Um, Lash? Pretty sure this is not where you go to get a soda," she said, confused. He grinned at her. 

"Just wanted to make a little detour first." Beth waited, expecting him to have needed the restroom, but he just stood there, waiting for her to say something else. There was an almost awkward silence for a long moment before he fidgeted and cleared his throat. 

"So, wanna date?" 

The question was so abrupt that Beth felt like the floor had lurched sideways, and her face turned bright red. 

"Um, sure," she answered timidly, not knowing how else to respond. Lash grinned at her. 

"Great. What kind of soda do you want?" He snatched her hand and led her back into the cafeteria as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Beth was still reeling a bit, but when everything finally processed a few seconds later, she began to beam uncontrollably. He bought her a diet 7-Up, and they went back to their table, still holding hands. 

Penny and Speed smirked when they saw them. "About time," said Penny, causing Beth to blush furiously once more, which made everyone at the table laugh. And just like that, everything was normal again. It was as though she and Lash had always been dating, and it changed almost nothing about the dynamic of the group, except that every so often the two of them would sneak off to make out. 

A few days later, though, she was sitting in the sun on the front steps of the school, doing homework in the ten minutes between classes, when a shadow fell over her notebook. She looked up and blinked, surprised to see Warren standing over her, looking even more grim than usual. After a few seconds of expectant silence, she spoke. 

"Is there something I can do for you?" she asked, trying to be polite. After another long second or two of staring, Warren sat down next to her. 

"Actually yeah," he said. "Look, you seem like an actually nice person, so I'm gonna give you a piece of advice: Lash is bad news. I heard you were dating. Dump him. He's an ass." 

Beth was stunned, not to mention pissed off. "Excuse me," she said, "but how is it any of your business to comment on my love life? Also, how the heck do you know what kind of a person Lash is? You've never spoken to him in your life!" 

"Doesn't mean I'm blind. Or deaf." He got up. "Look, take it or leave it, but that's my advice. If you stay with him, you'll get hurt. Trust me, I've seen it happen before." 

Now Beth stood up, too. "You've seen Lash hurt someone before?" she challenged. 

"Not exactly, but-" 

"So you haven't, then," she cut him off, "and you're just saying this because...?" 

He scowled at her. "Because I thought you might actually be worth trying to help," he shot back. "Guess I was wrong." He started to walk away, but she stopped him with a word. 

"You know, what you just said to me about Lash is exactly what people say about you: bad news. I would have thought that you of all people wouldn't make the same kind of ignorant mistake. Guess I was wrong," she mocked, and then brushed past him in a huff for the pure drama of it. She noted with satisfaction that he stood and stared after her for a moment, probably fuming, before muttering something under his breath and stalking off towards his next class.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Warren fumes.
> 
> ~~POV SHIFT!!!~~

He could have strangled her, right then and there. Was it not obvious to her that Lash (not to mention certain others of her friends) was a stuck-up, self-serving, puerile little dick? How in the hell could she not see it? He knew she was smart. She was his top competition in every class they had together. He watched her flounce off, her perfect blonde curls fluttering in the light breeze, sun glinting off her clear, fair skin and the bits of gold at her wrist, reflecting the shimmer of her rose-colored halter... and he finally understood. 

"Damn rich people," he muttered, and walked off towards the Mad Science lab, dark thoughts crowding his mind. 

They were a mystery to him. They really were. How they could spend so much time around people just like themselves and still be too stupid to recognize an asshole when they saw one was completely incomprehensible to him. It was as though they all lived in little bubbles of idyllic perfection: they all looked very pretty, but they had no idea what actual human interaction was. 

He scowled a little deeper, angry at the thought that someone as smart and talented as Beth was so willfully ignorant. It was like... like watching an Olympic athlete eat a Big Mac: disturbing, disgusting, and so damn disappointing. But hey, if she wanted to surround herself with the human equivalent of greasy junk food, he apparently couldn't stop her. It was just frustrating. Out of everyone he'd met at this school, she'd had the most potential not to be a giant piece of shit. 

He tried to shove his disappointment out of his mind, but it and indignant wrath were vying tirelessly for power over his consciousness. P.E. was awkward that day, which only added fuel to his pissy attitude. By the time he got onto the bus, the scowl was so deeply etched onto his face that a couple of people crowded three to a bench just to give him a seat's berth in any direction. It was lucky for them he sat at the back. 

He fumed for the entire bus ride, fumed as he walked the block and a half to his building, fumed as he stomped up the five stories to their tiny little apartment in the tiny little Maxville Chinatown, and stopped when he got to his door. He took a deep breath, willing the bad atmosphere he'd indulged in to dissipate before he went inside. When he'd shaken it off as much as he could, he unlocked the door and opened it. 

"Warren!" His little sister rocketed out of her chair and leapt at him for a hug. He only barely caught her, but managed with much effort to haul her up into his arms. She was getting older, almost six now, and wasn't quite as easy to lift anymore. But she couldn't help but bring a smile to his face, so he played with her for a minute, lifting her over his head and turning her upside down, hanging her off his arm, and tickling her until she squealed with laughter. 

His mother watched them with a fond smile on her face, feeling a horrible mix of pride in her only son and regret that he and his sister had to grow up in such a harsh way. She was beautiful, or she had been once. Now lines of worry, sadness, guilt, and remorse darkened her fair face and marred her vibrant smile. She looked tired, and it was no wonder, with the shifts she worked. Warren pretended not to notice the mixture of pain and affection on her face as he went over to give her a hug. She was half Cantonese, on her mother's side, and Warren's large frame engulfed her for a brief moment as they embraced. 

"How was school?" she asked in her quiet, small voice. A dark look crossed his face momentarily, but he shook it off as quickly as it came. 

"Fine, mom," he said, but she fixed him with a look that told him he hadn't shaken it off fast enough. His mother was very intuitive when it came to emotion, and, despite all appearances, she had passed some of that on to her son. Right now, though, he didn't want to ruin his little sister's good day, so he just shrugged. He knew from the look on his mother's face that she would ask him about it later, but for now, at least, he was safe. 

He went into his tiny room and dumped his backpack on the floor before collapsing face-first onto his bed. He had a shift at the Paper Lantern tonight that he was not looking forward to. He wasn't related to the Chong family, but they'd sort of taken his mother in after his dad got arrested and they lost the house. Chinatown was the only place they could afford after that, and the Chongs had taken them in right away, helping them move and getting them settled. 

Warren hadn't understood it at first, but when he'd asked Mrs. Chong about it one day, she'd just shrugged and said "tongzhi," which he'd later found out meant roughly "fellow citizen." His mother had explained to him that in China, more focus was placed on taking care of the society than the individual. Warren had come to understand the philosophy behind that idea, and it amounted basically to "we take care of our own." He could get behind that. 

Of course, in that type of society it was expected that you pull your weight, and they didn't believe in breaks. If you were working, you worked, end of story, and Mrs. Chong took that to heart. He was pretty sure the Chongs had never even heard of labor laws. The money wasn't even good, but it's not like anyone else would hire him. Warren tried to imagine himself in a McDonald's uniform and had to crack a smile at that mental image. 

He twisted around when he heard his mother step quietly into the room. Her lips were pursed, thin with worry, and she had her arms crossed protectively, as if she were cold. 

"So? What happened?" she asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Warren buried his face in his pillow again and grunted. 

"Rich people are stupid," he said in a muffled voice. His mother laughed, which was a rare enough sound that Warren turned to look at her. She was smiling at him fondly, and she put a hand on his back to comfort him. 

"Keep in mind that they're only fourteen, sweetheart. You've got a full year on them; they just need a little time." 

He snorted. "I wasn't that stupid when I was fourteen." 

"Well, not everyone is as intelligent as you are. That's a special gift of yours," she said, and would have gone on, but Warren interrupted. 

"But that's the thing, she is as smart as I am. She's just an idiot." 

His mother looked at him strangely for a second; he couldn't make out her expression. "Is this the unarmed combat girl you were telling me about?" 

That clicked it into place for Warren, and he immediately protested. "Mom, no. I mean yes it's her I'm talking about but it's not like I like her or anything. Not like that. She's just being an idiot right now and it's frustrating is all, because she's actually not an idiot, she's just acting like one, and I can't get her to..." he trailed off in frustration. 

His mother nodded understandingly. "What's the issue?" 

Warren sighed, for some reason reluctant to admit that it had anything to do with relationships. He didn't want his mother to get the wrong idea. "She's dating this... guy. He's a complete asshole, and it's painfully obvious, but she's too caught up in it to see clearly. She's gonna get hurt, and it’s completely predictable, but try telling her that." 

His mother shook her head. "You can't just tell someone that the person they're dating is no good and expect them to thank you for it. You may have seen it as an attempt to protect her heart, but she probably saw it as an attack. You probably injured her pride, and if you want people to like you, you have to be very careful not to do that." 

"I never said I wanted her to like me," he protested, but she gave him a mom look. He let it drop. 

"Warren, sweetheart, people are going to make mistakes, and try as we might, we can’t always protect the people we want to from those mistakes. All we can do is be there for them when they realize their error." 

Warren snorted again. "If they realize their error," he said, but stopped short when the expression on his mother's face let him know that it wasn't just his situation she'd been talking about. He kicked himself mentally for being so stupidly selfish, and put his arms around her. She smiled and patted his arm to let him know she wasn't angry, and suddenly everything was all right again. After a beat, he unfolded himself, and the two of them went back into the main room to keep his sister company while she colored.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homecoming is finally here, and Beth can't wait to have the time of her life.

The next few weeks were uncomfortable. Beth and Warren kept getting pushed into interacting, particularly in P.E. where they were inevitably forced into close proximity. She'll admit, she hit a little harder in those weeks than she was strictly supposed to. She knew that Warren could feel the difference, and he glared at her once or twice, but never said a word. 

He did trip her once, though, one day when she'd been particularly brutal. In her petty anger, she'd left herself wide open for it. He flipped her hard onto her back almost effortlessly, and then stood there looking at her with all the scorn in the world. She felt her face heat up from embarrassment, especially since basically the entire school was looking at them. She used a trick she'd learned from interacting with her mother and turned the embarrassment into belligerent determination. She was up on her feet and in a fighting stance within ten seconds of the fall. 

"That's right, Bethany, up on your feet and kick his face in!" cheered Coach Boomer. She ignored him. For one thing, Warren was significantly taller than she was, and he was clearly on his game today. Plus, she knew from experience that if you had your foot up at face level and someone caught it, chances are you would end up on the ground and in pain. She'd been there once today already, and she was not going to risk it happening again. She did manage to kick him squarely in the chest, though, pushing him back about ten feet. She felt better after that. 

She wasn't sure why she was so upset that Warren didn't like Lash. It's not as though she valued his opinion, or needed his approval. But for some reason, she hated the idea that he thought she was wrong. Maybe it was her pride talking, or maybe it was pushback against the condescension she'd felt every time she tried to have an intelligent conversation with her father, but she hated when people thought she was wrong. It was the reason she worked so hard in school: perfect grades meant perfect answers, which meant her answers couldn't be wrong. Theoretically, Beth knew that achieving perfection was impossible. She also knew that, theoretically, spewing streams of ice from her hands was impossible. But if she could do one... 

She was deep in contemplation of her problem one day close to the end of September when Lash asked her what color dress she was wearing. 

"What?" she asked, confused. "I'm not wearing a dress. What are you talking about?" 

He rolled his eyes. "Duh. Homecoming. It's like a week and a half away." 

All thoughts of Warren fled her mind in place of dresses, shoes, corsages, and hairstyles. She hadn't told Lash about Warren's warning to her (she tried not to broadcast that she was on speaking terms with the school freak), and so far Lash hadn't done anything mean or hurtful. Sure, he was a teenage boy, so sometimes he said things that made her uncomfortable, and he was a little pushy when it came to the physical side of their relationship, but that was normal. Finding a guy in high school who wasn't like that was a one-in-a-million chance, and she was more realistic than to hang her hopes on a dream. 

She and Lash decided on an ice blue color scheme, with pale pink roses and baby's breath for the flowers. She, Lauren, Trina, and Gwen were all invited over to Penny's house to get ready, and Lash and Speed went in with the other three guys to get a limo with flight capabilities. Speed was taking Penny, and had seemed perfectly content with bright orange as a color scheme. 

The days rolled by and the entire school started to buzz with excitement. The final days before the dance were a flurry of shopping, experimenting with hair and makeup, and finding just the right jewelry to go with her dress. She was more than satisfied when the night of the dance finally rolled around. She had arrived at Penny's before noon that Saturday, even though the dance wasn't until 7 PM. It took her almost six hours to get everything just the way she wanted, but of course some of that time was eaten up by talking to and helping her friends. 

The limo finally pulled up, and one by one the girls paired off with their dates, piling into the car to go to dinner before the dance. They had chosen a place Beth had never been to before, but everyone insisted that it was the best Chinese food in Maxville. Not as messy as Italian food, but not as cheap as hamburgers, and not as involved as a steakhouse... it was the perfect option, as long as she didn't get noodles, and she generally liked Chinese food. She was pretty happy about the choice. 

Until she stepped inside and saw Warren filling up a pitcher of iced tea. She sucked in a breath and prayed that the others wouldn't notice him. What was he doing working here? Weren't there labor laws against that kind of thing? She sat down in the booth next to Lash and focused on not looking at Warren. She half hoped that he hadn't noticed them, and that they'd somehow manage to slip away without him ever even knowing they'd been there, but that got dashed when she got up to go to the bathroom and found him leaning against the wall in the hallway, arms crossed, waiting for her. 

"Nice dress," he said, but she got the feeling it was more of an accusation and less of a compliment. 

"What," she retorted, "sour that you were wrong about my boyfriend?" 

"Nah," he shrugged, "just making one last ditch effort to get you to open your eyes." 

"My eyes are open, Warren. Lash is a great boyfriend, so whatever issue you have with him, drop it." 

Warren shrugged again, still scowling but with a resigned tint to it. "Well for your sake, freeze girl, I sincerely hope he stays that way. Have fun at the dance," he muttered, and left her standing in the hallway, fuming. 

"No," she said to no one in particular. "I'm not going to let Warren Peace ruin my night." She took a breath, lifted her chin, and pushed aside all negative thoughts. She deserved a wonderful night, and she was absolutely determined to have it. By the time they left the restaurant, Warren Peace might as well have never met her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth's perfect night didn't quite pan out the way she'd hoped, and she finds herself taking refuge in a certain restaurant...

He had just about dropped his tray when he'd seen her sitting there next to Lash and the others. What was that line? Of all the gin joints in all the world... Still, he'd tried his best (despite his mother's warning - he just couldn't shake the feeling that he should be able to get through to her) and she'd thrown it back in his face. Well, fine. Her mistake.

He spent the rest of the night mostly silent, trying to focus on work and not Beth's frustratingly willful idiocy. The time went excruciatingly slowly despite the Saturday crowd, and by the time 10 PM rolled around, Warren was both physically and mentally exhausted. Still, nothing for it but to clean up and close up, so he started making the rounds, filling up salt shakers and soy sauce bottles, and putting the chairs up on top of the tables.

He had just finished sweeping the floor when he heard a knock on the front door. He sighed in frustration - couldn't they read the 'closed' sign? - and went to go tell whoever it was to piss off, but when he got to the door, he froze.

It was Bethany. She was standing outside, alone, at 10:30 at night, holding herself and shaking like she was cold. Cold? She was never cold, she had ice powers. Then he finally registered the shock on her face. Something was wrong.

Quick as lightning, he unlatched the door and opened it, the worry evident on his face.

"You were right," she whispered, and something like cold fire doused his senses, heating and freezing his blood at the same time. He ushered her inside, locking the door after her, and guided her over to one of the booths near the back of the restaurant.

Yai Jun came out of the back, wondering why the front door had been opened. When she saw Warren letting someone inside, she started to protest, but Warren shot her a look, and thankfully she was intuitive enough to understand that all was not well. He sent her running for his jacket with a quick word in Cantonese, and she went off with a concerned look on her face. She was a little impatient sometimes, but she was solidly compassionate when someone was in trouble.

Warren sat Beth down in the booth and spread his jacket over her shoulders in lieu of a shock blanket, then took the seat across from her. He asked Yai Jun to make some tea, and she bustled away quickly, leaving them alone.

"Beth, what happened?" She had been staring blankly at the table, but when he spoke she looked up at him, and the fear in her eyes felt like a knife in his chest.

She shook her head. "I'm okay," she said softly. "He didn't..." she trailed off, not wanting to say the words. "He tried to, but he didn’t. I got away."

Warren's hands were clenched into fists, and it was taking all his concentration not to burst into flame. His veins still felt frozen, but his blood was boiling. She went on, her voice strangely steady.

"We were at the after-party, at Speed's house, and Lash pulled me aside. It started out just fine, but then he started trying to push me into it. I didn't want to, and he got angry and tried to force me. I iced him. I don't think he was expecting that, and I managed to freeze him in place so he couldn't come after me. I still ran, though, and I got on the first bus I could find. I didn't want him chasing me. I wasn't even looking where the bus was going, and I have no idea how long I was on it. I think I didn't want to go home. We passed the restaurant, and I just..." she trailed off, not knowing how to explain.

Yai Jun came back with the tea, and Warren set a cup in front of Beth, telling her just to hold it for a minute. He said it would help, and for some reason, it did. With the tea in her hands, Beth felt calmer, more in control of herself. She could look back on everything that had happened over the past few weeks with a sort of mature acceptance that she had never felt before. What she found shamed her.

She looked at Warren. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I should have listened to you."

Warren shook his head. "Don't for one second take any of the blame for what happened to you. What Lash did was his fault, and it's on his head, not yours. Don't beat yourself up thinking you could have prevented it. You had no reason to trust me and no reason to listen to me."

"But you were right," she protested. "How did you know?"

"I've seen his type before," said Warren darkly, and Beth thought she'd rather not ask for the details.

They sat in silence for a few minutes while Beth drank her tea and thought about the strangeness of her situation. Only a couple of hours ago, she would never have believed it if someone had told her that she'd be sitting with Warren Peace, drinking tea, telling him her problems, and feeling entirely comfortable in his presence. But here she was, and even stranger, she discovered that she was relieved - happy almost - that it was him she was with.

She couldn't have done this with any of her other friends, she realized. It was too... personal. Which was weird, considering she'd barely spoken two friendly words to Warren since they met. But for some reason, he put her at ease. She felt more confident, more secure, even more content than she ever had before. She didn't know whether or not that was the trauma speaking, but she was determined to prove that she'd learned her lesson. It was high time she stopped all the drama and started acting like the hero she wanted to be. She might still be in high school, but it was super-high school after all.

She glanced back up at Warren, who was still looking at her patiently, perfectly content to sit with her for however long she needed him to. All of a sudden it struck her how insane that was. Given his disposition, and the almost certainly horrible childhood he had (growing up with a supervillain father and then no father at all after Barron Battle was jailed), it seemed incredible to her that he would give up his time to make sure that someone else was feeling okay, no matter how bad their situation was. Nothing that happened to her could have been half as bad as some of the things he must have seen and gone through.

With a new respect for him, she took a breath and scooted out of the booth, standing up and facing him.

"Thanks, Warren," she said as he also stood up. "I'm okay now, really, and rest assured I won't make the same mistake again."

"Not your mistake, Beth. Lash's mistake. And I guarantee he won't get a chance to make it again," he said menacingly, staring past her as if he could burn a hole through the wall. He wasn't sure how he would break every bone in an elastic's body, but he was certain he'd figure it out along the way.

Beth smiled briefly and shook her head. "Thanks, Warren, but no. I know it seems weird, but I'd rather no one know about this. Any of it. I don't want anyone to know what happened. I don't know why, it's just... it's too personal. Please. Let me handle it."

Warren looked down at her - at 6'2" he was a good six inches taller - and considered her for a moment before giving in. "Your call," he said, "but I can't promise I won't beat the shit out of him in gym class."

She smiled again. "I wouldn't dream of trying to prevent you," she assured him, then acted completely on impulse and hugged him. He was a little stunned at first, but then gingerly put his arms around her, not sure how to react to her sudden display of affection. She held on to him for a while, soaking in the comfort of his proximity. He was warm, and even through the strong overtones of grease, stale Chinese food, and sweat, he smelled a little bit like charred cloth and clean smoke. For some reason that brought a hint of a smile to her face.

When she felt it start to get awkward, she pushed away and handed him back his jacket, brushing her hair away from her face.

"Thanks," she said again. "I should probably get home." She pulled out her cell phone to call a cab, but Warren stopped her.

"No way in hell," he said. "I'll drive you. You've had enough to deal with tonight."

She looked at him blankly. "You have a car?"

"Kind of. Still paying it off."

"How do you have a car? How do you have a license?"

"Technically it's a permit."

"But you can't get a permit until you're fifteen," she protested. He just looked at her, waiting for her to connect the dots. "Wait, you're fifteen?" she finally asked, incredulous. "But you're a freshman!"

Warren shrugged on his jacket and waved goodbye to Yai Jun and Mrs. Chong. "I got held back in the 7th grade," he said, leading her out the door and over to his ancient, crappy little black Honda Civic that barely ran and didn't have air conditioning, and that he'd gotten for a grand total of three thousand dollars. Didn't seem like a whole lot, but he wasn't even close to paying it off yet.

Beth stared at him. "How did you get held back? You're, like, the smartest guy in Sky High, with the possible exception of Mr. Medulla."

Warren opened the car door and hit the unlock button. "Fighting," he said by way of explanation, and swung into the driver's seat. If the car hadn't been so beat up, it would almost have been comical to see him sitting in the front seat of a Civic, but somehow it fit him, and Beth slid into the shotgun seat beside him.

The engine sounded like something trying to crawl out of hell, but it finally turned over, and Beth directed him to her house. There wasn't much conversation besides that. Both of them were exhausted and more than a little confused about each other. When they finally pulled up to the right address, Warren just stared at her.

"This is where you live?" he asked, hardly able to stop his jaw from dropping. The house (mansion?) was enormous, two stories plus a large "attic", and probably close to a billion square feet. He was pretty sure his entire apartment could fit inside the entryway three times over, if the house had an entryway. It was one of those houses that looked like it would have an entryway.

Beth gave him an apologetic smile. "Yeah, my dad's Sub-Zero," she said. "He gets a little extravagant at times."

"I'll say," Warren agreed.

"You can find your way home from here?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I got it."

Beth thanked him one more time, got out of the car, and told him she'd see him at school. He stayed parked at the curb, waiting to leave until she was safely inside her house. When she got to the door, she turned and waved before going inside, the golden light from the doorframe silhouetting her for a moment like a goddess passing into Olympus. Then the door shut, and the moment passed. Warren shook the image out of his head and drove away, berating himself for being such a sap.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth looks toward the future with, surprisingly, something very similar to optimism.

The next few days at school were horrible for Beth. She avoided her friends because Lash was with them, and she couldn't quite face him yet. Lauren and Trina approached her at one point and asked why she was acting so strange, but all she could bring herself to say was that she and Lash had broken up. Apparently Lash was spreading the same story, and Beth didn't see any need to contradict it. 

She could tell that Warren had started to glare a little more intently at Lash than usual, but so far he had kept his promise and stayed out of it. They talked a little in P.E., but it still felt awkward, so they never really interacted outside of that class. 

Beth stopped speaking to Speed, Penny, and Gwen almost entirely, and Lauren and Trina only talked to her sporadically. They were probably afraid of losing favor with Gwen, and Beth decided that she couldn't really blame them for abandoning her. They didn't know the whole story. 

Time passed, and Lash faded away in her mind to a distant unpleasantness as she sunk herself into the task of surviving high school relatively alone. Her popularity had been short-lived but glorious while it lasted, and if she were being honest with herself, she missed it. A lot. 

Chris continued to worry about her (she hadn't told him the whole story either, just that she and Lash had fought and broken up), but being five hours away and in his second year of college, there wasn't much he could do about it. They skyped regularly, and Beth's newfound maturity deepened their relationship. Beth missed him dearly. 

The weeks rolled by and before she knew it, final exams loomed around the corner. Her one consolation was that with no social life she had endless time to devote to studying, and so was making straight A's in every single one of her classes. She barely needed to study, and only put actual effort into Mad Science and History. She was so eager for the school year to be over that Principal Powers pulled her aside one day after a particularly brutal P.E. class and asked her if she was happy at Sky High. 

Beth had to say yes despite her urgent desire for some space from her classmates because she was thoroughly enjoying her education: it was a good one, and Beth recognized that. She managed to get a smile out of Principal Powers when she mentioned it, too. She had an almost special relationship with Principal Powers, being her star student. Of course, Principal Powers was far too politic to actually display any indication of affection or any hint of special treatment, but Beth liked to imagine, at least, that she could see hints of warmth for her in the woman's eyes. 

It was nice to know that she cared enough to ask, and after their conversation some of Beth's associative distaste for the school fell away. Despite its student body, the teachers at least were all pretty wonderful. Even Coach Boomer. He had an abrasive personality, but he was generally an okay guy once you got past the macho demeanor. 

The last day of school finally came, and Beth nearly flew out of her last class. She loved the wintertime and hated being cooped up inside during it. There was snow heaped up in big drifts on the little floating island, which Beth crunched through happily as she left the school for the last time that semester. 

As the bus took off, she thought back on everything that had happened, and came to the sudden realization that she was not the same person she had been when she'd shown up that first day. It was almost incomprehensible to think of how much she'd changed, but she knew that she had changed for the better. She took solace in that, and surprisingly found herself feeling almost no negative emotions about her experiences. It was hard for her to be sad during winter, but this was more than just happiness. This was... self-awareness? Pride? Critically-minded self-confidence? She wasn't sure, but she decided she liked it. She looked out the window at the gently falling snow, and smiled. This was going to be a singularly wonderful winter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter is Beth's favorite time of year, and this holiday season she's in for a big surprise.

The weeks following the end of school were practically bliss for Beth. Chris was back from college, snow was falling, the weather was cold enough to bundle up under sweaters and scarves (not that she needed them, but it was comfy), and her favorite holiday, Christmas, came and went with much pomp and ado. 

She was walking around the mall one day just before New Year's when she spied a familiar black leather jacket among the crowd a few yards away. She was in a good mood and was happy to see someone she knew (she'd been avoiding pretty much everyone from school since the break started), so she hurried over to him, waving to get his attention. He stopped short when he saw her, surprised that she would willingly greet him in public. Most people ran the opposite direction. 

She wasn't sure why - maybe she was filled with a particular glee that day, or maybe it was just that she forgot to think - but when she got over to him she hugged him on instinct, breathing in the scent of leather and ashes that had given her such comfort the last time they were this close. Then she remembered herself and let go, stepping back a pace and blushing from embarrassment. 

"Sorry," she said immediately, "I forgot you don't like hugs. I'm just in a really good mood is all, and I was excited to see you since I haven't seen you since the end of the semester, and..." She trailed off lamely, feeling mortified at her stupidity, but he just cocked an eyebrow. 

"Glad to see you're doing well," he commented, diffusing the tension with a bit of wry humor. She beamed at him. 

"Yeah, I've been really great, actually. Winter is my favorite season, obviously, and my brother is back in town, so that's always nice. Anyway I was just out shopping. I'm a little surprised to see you out here, honestly. I didn't know you were a big mall-goer," she rattled on, bubbling with inexplicable energy. 

"I'm not," he replied, and held up the bag in his hand. "After-Christmas sales." 

"Oh," she said, not knowing how to respond. He was so terse; it made conversations difficult. After shuffling around awkwardly for a few moments, she broke the silence with one of her favorite fallbacks. "So, wanna get some coffee or something? I have a gift card to this place just down the strip that's burning a hole in my pocket." 

He thought about it for a second and decided he couldn't see much of a downside, so he shrugged his assent and they started walking. As they walked, conversation started up again and flourished at the little booth they chose, steam rising from the cups in front of them. Drinking coffee on cold days was one of her favorite winter activities, and as she sat across the table from Warren she was struck once again at how comfortable she felt in his presence. She didn't feel awkward or intimidated, or threatened, or unwelcome... it was as if she were sitting across from any quasi-normal boy her age (she couldn't really classify herself as 'normal', being a super and all). 

Of course, as soon as she had that thought the obvious answer hit her. She _was_ sitting across from a quasi-normal boy. All that talk about Warren Peace being the son of Barron Battle had completely blinded her to the fact that he was still just Warren Peace. He made his own decisions and lived his own life just like everyone else. Just because his father had been evil didn't mean he would be. She sat awestruck for a minute, dumbfounded by her own myopia, and then she began to see Warren in a different light. 

She had always known he was tall, but for some reason it stood out to her now. The slant of his shoulders and the elegant lines of his hands drew her gaze. She thought about the patience he'd had with her the night she'd shown up at the Paper Lantern, bedraggled and alone, and the way he had wrapped his arms around her, rock solid but gentle and almost tender. She found herself fascinated by the shifting colors in his eyes, when suddenly they locked with hers and her heart lost its rhythm. _Oh no_ , she thought as she abandoned any last vestiges of resistance. _Dad's going to kill me when he finds out_.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School starts up again, and Beth gets back into the swing of things, determined to keep what little cool she has left. But when she sees a friend in need, will she risk it all to help him out? Will he even let her?

If anyone had asked him, Warren wouldn’t have been able to say exactly what he thought was doing just then. Beth wasn’t his friend – they’d barely spoken after homecoming – and he wasn’t exactly the coffee shop type. But here he was, sitting across from her, listening to her talk, and wondering why he cared.

Because, he realized, he did. Care. He cared. About her.

The thought struck him so suddenly that he stopped studying the intricate pattern on her silver earrings and looked up at her face. Her eyes caught his, and for a moment, the world stopped. He felt like he’d been hit with a jolt of electricity, and he broke the gaze quickly, before even a full second had passed. The conversation continued after only the barest hint of a pause, and Warren spent the next few minutes trying very hard not to think about the implications of what he’d just felt.

Eventually they finished their coffee and got up to go their separate ways. She said they should hang out again sometime soon, hugged him again briefly, and went off towards the exit. He watched her swish away through the crowd, a bounce in her step and a sparkle in the way she moved, and he gave up trying to fight it. He didn’t know what it was, her intelligence, her strength, her decisiveness, the fire he saw in her when he watched her fight, but something drew him to her and that light she had in her. She shined the way his little sister did, the way his mother did in old photos, the way he never had. And probably never would, he thought.

She disappeared into the crowd, and he savored the longing for a quiet moment before filing it away as just one more thing there was no point in hoping for. Then he turned around, and got back to reality and the list his mother had sent him out to fill.

The next couple of weeks went quickly, and school started up again before anyone was quite ready to go back. Warren kept to himself, as usual, but he was happy to see that, more often than not, Beth ended up spending the lunch period sitting with a couple of girls from their class. He was glad she was getting her friends back. She seemed like the sort of person who needed a social group. She seemed happier, too. Not quite as bubbly and oblivious as she had been at the start of last semester, but surer. More even. Not subdued, exactly, just more in tune with reality. More mature.

And Beth felt it. Having Chris back for the holidays, being able to talk to him face to face, not just over the computer, it had rejuvenated her. She knew it sounded cliché, even in her own head, but with everything that had happened, she felt like a whole new person. Winter was a time of change, a time of death and rebirth, and she felt like she had undergone a metamorphosis over the break. Having Lauren and Trina back on her side didn’t hurt her mood at all, either. They would still occasionally blow her off to hang out with Gwen and the others, and despite the small sting of bitterness that bit her tongue every time she had to spend lunch alone, Beth found that upon reflection, she really didn’t mind all that much. She minded a little, but hey, she was still a teenager, right? She was allowed some pettiness now and then.

She had no idea what to do about her newly discovered crush on Warren. She wanted to flirt with him, but there were several problems with that approach. For one thing, how do you even flirt with someone like Warren Peace? He was so serious and so tight-lipped all the time that trying to make light conversation was all but impossible. For another thing, she had no idea if he liked her back, and there was pretty much no way to find out without just flat-out asking him. That sure as heck wasn’t going to happen. Rule number one of dating and relationships: never ask a question you don’t already know the answer to. And if you do know the answer but it’s not what you want, don’t ask until you change their mind. That’s what her mom taught her anyway, and her parents were still together.

Anyway, the point was that she had no way of finding out whether or not Warren liked her, since he didn’t have any friends she could ask and he was about as easy to read as a closed book in a foreign language locked in an iron box and buried ten feet down under solid concrete. Besides, and she hated to admit to herself that this had any bearing whatsoever on how she treated Warren, but Lauren and Trina had just started hanging out with her again, and if they ever saw her willingly talking to Warren Peace they would drop her in an instant.

It felt so good to have friends again, people she could bring over to the house and gossip with and do each others’ hair and nails and makeup… She was a girl, she needed that kind of interaction. She’d been so lonely last semester she’d almost gone insane. Some part of her wished that she were mature enough not to value the opinions of people who so obviously judged others without actually knowing them, but the vast majority of herself drowned out that thought by reminding her of how miserable she’d been during her self-imposed social exile. As much as she liked Warren, she decided not to burn down the already rickety bridges she’d built with Lauren and Trina just for the remote possibility that he liked her too.

So she said hi to him in P.E., when she could get away with it without being overheard, and she kept an eye on him during lunchtime. She never sat with him, but when Lauren and Trina weren’t watching, or when they left her on her own so they could sit with Gwen, she would take out one of her school books, pretend to study, and steal glances at him from across the cafeteria. She liked to think that once or twice she caught him looking back at her, but she could never be sure that it wasn’t her own wishful thinking.

A few weeks into the semester, though, she began to get worried about him. She’d noticed him not eating again, and her newfound feelings for him had transformed last semester’s curiosity into full-fledged concern. She knew why he almost never bought food from the cafeteria: it was common knowledge that he was by far the poorest student in her class, if not the whole school. He would occasionally bring something from home, but usually it was no more than an apple or a sad-looking sandwich. She didn’t know anything about his situation at home, really, just that (obviously) his dad was in jail, and that things were bad enough financially that he was working late shifts at the Paper Lantern.

She did know, however, that going all day without eating wasn’t healthy, and that it probably wasn’t doing wonders for his mood, either. But she wasn’t stupid enough to think she could start buying him food or slipping him cash. He wouldn’t accept it; he was too proud, and he’d probably just get angry at her. So, one day in late February when he’d skipped lunch (again) to sit outside and read despite the cold weather, she devised a plan.

Lauren and Trina were with Gwen again today, so no one would notice if she slipped out of the cafeteria early. They would probably just think she was going for a walk in the thin snow still blanketing the ground. So, instead of eating the second half of her sandwich, she left it in the plastic and tucked it inside her purse. She finished her apple and soda before dumping her tray and stepping out of the cafeteria, hands in her pockets and boots crunching as she walked over to where Warren was sitting, book in hand.

Without missing a beat, she plopped down beside him as if they’d been best friends for years. “Hey,” she said, digging the sandwich out of her purse and offering it to him. “Do you want this? I am really feeling the winter pudge today and spring is just around the corner, so the less bread I eat the better, and I offered it to Lauren and Trina, but they didn’t want the extra carbs, either, so if you don’t want it I’m just going to throw it away.”

For a split second, she thought it hadn’t worked, but then he shrugged and mumbled, “Well shit, I’ll take it.” Beth suppressed a triumphant grin as he opened the plastic and started to eat.

“Awesome, thanks,” she said, working hard keeping up the façade. “I hate wasting food.” Suddenly, abruptly, her mind went blank, and she completely ran out of things to say. She sat there for a moment, trying desperately to think of some way to keep the conversation going before he got suspicious, but he just kept eating, apparently not bothered by the lack of conversation.

For a moment, she relaxed, realizing that she’d pulled it off, and then she noticed how close she was sitting to him. Not close enough to be touching, but she was only inches away, and the proximity made her whole body heat up and her heart start to race. She sent up silent thanks that the cold and wind had already turned her nose, cheeks, and ears red. It would hide the blush she knew she was developing quite nicely.

After about a minute of silence, which was excruciating for Beth but didn’t seem to affect Warren in the slightest, she decided she should probably leave before things got any more awkward, or worse, someone saw them together. So she stood up and slung her purse over her shoulder.

“Well,” she said briskly, “I need to go get my English book, I totally forgot to do the reading last night. See you in P.E.” She waved and walked off, determined to appear as nonchalant as she possibly could. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked away, and the sensation brought a small smile to her lips. Maybe she had a chance with him after all…


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth gets worried and tries to reach out to Warren, but the rebellious pyrokinetic may not want a helping hand...

The next few weeks saw a repetition of that conversation on a fairly regular basis. Beth would buy a little bit extra every day she saw Warren go without lunch, and at the end of the period, she would find him and ask him if he wanted the extras. He hadn’t turned her down yet, and she made sure to offer him her leftovers sometimes even when he did have food, just so that he wouldn’t get suspicious. So far it seemed to be working, and even better, she’d always managed to have those conversations with him when no one else was around. It wasn’t precisely difficult, given how much Warren kept to himself, but she liked to think of it as an accomplishment all the same. So far, the semester was going pretty well for her.

One day shortly after Spring Break, however, Beth was sitting in History class taking detailed notes as usual, when Mr. Clio abruptly stopped talking. Beth looked up, confused, and Mr. Clio’s mouth took on an annoyed and disappointed turn.

“Mr. Peace,” he said, and all heads turned toward the back of the classroom. Warren was slouched in his chair, arms crossed, eyes closed, and chin on his chest. He was asleep.

“Mr. Peace,” repeated Mr. Clio, a little louder this time, but Warren still didn’t wake up. Some of the students started to snigger, and Mr. Clio shot them a reproving look. Beth watched helplessly as he walked down the aisle between the desks, stopping directly in front of Warren’s chair and adjusting his glasses. He cleared his throat, and said one more time, in a low, almost menacing voice, “Mr. Peace.”

Warren slowly blinked himself awake, pulled out of sleep by the proximity of the voice. He took a moment to orient himself to the situation, then looked over and up at Mr. Clio’s stern, disapproving visage, with not the slightest hint of remorse or embarrassment on his face.

“Feeling refreshed, Mr. Peace?” Warren didn’t even flinch.

“I could use a few more minutes,” he replied evenly. Mr. Clio was not impressed.

“Detention, Mr. Peace.”

Warren said nothing, but he half-rolled his eyes and turned his head back towards the front of the classroom with a blasé expression on his face. Mr. Clio pursed his lips, but after a moment he turned away and walked back up to the board to continue his lecture. When the bell rang he called Warren up to the front, and Beth overheard him telling Warren to meet him at the detention room after seventh period. She didn’t want to eavesdrop, so she gathered up her things quickly and hurried out of the room. She tried to wait for Warren to come out so she could ask him what was wrong, but her Math classroom was all the way across the school, and apparently Mr. Clio was having a Conversation with him. She waited as long as she could, but she eventually had to run off without seeing him. She only barely made it to class on time.

She looked for Warren at lunch, too, but he was nowhere to be found, and she couldn’t even find him outside when she finished eating early. She ended up having to eat the food she had saved for him herself, but she was so worried that none of it tasted right. She didn’t know why she was getting so worked up about it. She knew that Warren had gotten detention before, and she’d heard rumors of him falling asleep in some of his other classes, but she’d never seen him doze off in History before. He had an amazing mind for names and dates, and he consistently beat her every time the class played trivia games to review before a test. He even technically had a higher grade in the class, but Beth didn’t think that any points over 100 should be counted for class rank, and it was only one point anyway.

It was just uncharacteristic, that’s all. So uncharacteristic that it worried her. She knew in her gut that something wasn’t right, and she was determined to make sure he was okay. To this end, she found herself dawdling around after school let out, waiting for Warren to be done with detention so she could finally ask him what was wrong. Luckily, the school only kept students for a half hour in detention because the last bus off the floating island left at 3:45.

By the time Mr. Clio let him go, the school was practically deserted, so Beth was pacing the front steps, trying to come up with an excuse for staying so late that Warren would actually believe. They saw each other at the same moment, and Beth’s mind raced to find something plausible before he reached her. She came up short.

“What are you still doing here?” he asked her in his usual brusque manner. She decided that truth was probably a better option than a lame lie at this point.

“I was waiting to see if you were okay.” He looked at her blankly for a moment, so she explained. “Today in History, with you falling asleep,” he tensed up, but she continued. “It wasn’t like you. And I tried to catch you after that class but you didn’t come out of the room in time, and then I couldn’t find you at lunch, and P.E. didn’t give us a chance to talk at all, so…” She trailed off.

“So, what?” he asked, not taking the bait. She took a breath.

“So what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I fell asleep, that’s all.”

Beth didn’t buy it for a second.

“Warren, you love History. You never fall asleep in that class, it’s not like you. Plus, you look like you didn’t sleep at all last night. What’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on, and who ever said I loved History?” He blew her off, walking away in an attempt to end the conversation that he was clearly not happy about. Beth did not appreciate his rudeness.

“Um, excuse me, but you have the highest grade in that class, and Mr. Clio doesn’t give out A’s on essays just for knowing the facts. But that’s not the point; something _is_ going on, you just won’t talk about it.”

“Then take the hint and stop asking me about it,” he retorted and started to walk off in an attempt to escape her. Her mouth dropped open in surprise for a moment, but she quickly recovered herself and hurried after him.

“No,” she said when she caught up. “No I will not stop asking you about it.”

“Why not?” he interjected. “I’m obviously not gonna answer, so why bother?”

“Because I’m you’re friend and I-”

“Oh, what, we’re friends now?” he cut her off again, scorn evident in his voice and eyes. “Just because you pity-buy me lunch a few times a week? Yeah, I know that’s what you’re doing,” he said in response to the surprise and guilt that suddenly appeared on her face. She tried feebly to defend herself.

“It’s not pity, I told you. I really want to lose three pounds; then I’ll be perfect.”

“Bullshit, Bethany. You’re already perfect. Now leave me alone.” He stalked off around the side of the school, and Beth stood dumbstruck for a moment before following him, determined now more than ever to prove to him that she wasn’t just some soulless rich girl trying to make herself feel righteous by pretending to care about him. After a moment, she caught up to him and placed herself directly in his path, forcing him to stop walking.

“Okay, first of all, thanks, that’s actually really sweet of you, and second of all, no. I will not leave you alone.” She knew she was speaking at a slightly higher volume than she otherwise would have, but there was really no one around to overhear them, and damned if he wasn’t being ridiculously aggravating right now. Apparently, he thought the same thing about her.

“Why?” he yelled. “Why not? Why the hell does it matter to you so much?”

Beth put her hands to the sides of her face in an attempt to keep herself calm. It didn’t much work.

“Because,” she yelled back, enunciating every syllable with deliberate clarity, “I’m worried about you, Warren! You’re not acting like yourself!”

He cocked his head in mock-deliberation. “Let’s see, ornery, anti-social, and generally pissed off? Yeah that sounds pretty much normal for me actually.”

“Yeah but sleeping through History doesn’t,” she retorted, starting to feel her self-control slipping away beneath the anger and confusion.

“Why do you care?” he yelled again, hands thrown out in frustration. “Why, all of a sudden, does my sleep schedule matter to you so m-”

She kissed him.

Her hand reached up to his chest and grabbed the edge of his open leather jacket, pulling him down to her, and she kissed him. She didn’t think about it, just acted on impulse. Half of her was terrified that he would shove her away or recoil, but he didn’t. He stood stock still, as if she had frozen him in place with her powers. After a moment, she set her heels back on the ground, breaking the kiss, and opened her eyes to look straight into his.

“That’s why I care,” she whispered.

He blinked at her a couple of times, utterly silent, before twining a hand in her golden curls and pulling her back into the kiss.


End file.
